ARTO Movement

                                  Photo by Junhyung Park I came across a question recently on Thread. A simple question but quite telling. “If I study fine art, what can I become?” The answers came quickly. "An artist." Said several people.  "A visual merchandiser." Said someone.  "A theme park artist." Said another.  In other words, the answer is still an artist. Just in different forms. And there is nothing wrong with the answer. A fine art education does train you to make. To think visually. To develop ideas into form. So naturally, the assumption is that you graduate and continue doing exactly that which is making artwork. But what I found more interesting was not what was said.  It was what was missing.  Because being a fine art graduate is not just about becoming an artist.  It’s about understanding how art exists.  Some graduates will go on to become...

  Critical Reflection: On Khairul Ehsani Sapari’s 'Where Your Dreams Come to Die (But, Hey, It’s All About the Journey, Right?)' Reading Khairul Ehsani Sapari’s article, Where Your Dreams Come to Die (But, Hey, It’s All About the Journey, Right?) was like staring at a mirror that didn’t flatter but reflected truths I both knew and tried to ignore. I approach this reflection not as a distant reader, but as an insider—an art practitioner, teacher, and observer of the Malaysian art scene. The article’s biting sarcasm, caustic humor, and bleak yet accurate picture of post-graduation life in the arts resonated deeply. Though at first glance it reads like satire, there is sincerity within the cynicism. This essay attempts to critically reflect on the themes presented, unpack their implications, and consider how they align with my lived experiences and observations in the local art industry. The Tone of Brutal Honesty (Laced with Humor) From the opening line, the tone is unapol...

We do not inherit legacy as a finished story. We inherit it as a question: What will you do with what’s been left to you? For much of my career, I believed that legacy was something static—a body of work, a series of accomplishments, perhaps even a name etched into the annals of an institution or a gallery wall. But as time passed, I realised that legacy isn’t built in grand gestures or singular achievements. It lives quietly, in the margins, carried by people, woven into the stories we don’t always tell. This realisation became particularly vivid as I reflected on my journey with Amir and Danial Fuad—two individuals who started as my assistants but evolved into formidable voices in Malaysia’s art scene. Amir, now a writer and curator whose work interrogates art’s role within cultural and social dialogues, and Danial Fuad, a photographer and writer whose lens...